by J. A. Scorch
They were all waiting for the ship to put them into the battle. Porter had always observed that the Zeal only ever launched as many ships as they deemed needed to defeat an attack force. Their confidence was the only reason the Stalkers weren't facing several thousand fighters at once.
"Up ahead. Do you see the central spire? We need to hit it with everything we've got."
"Roger that," Nicole said. Porter didn't have to explain to her that firing upon the spire would temporarily disable their stealth modules in the area and reveal their location. The X90S had always been a weaponless ship until Command decided to make the 30mm autocannon, mounted under the nose of the bird, operational.
"Porter," Nicole said. Her voice was starting to crack. She had more to say, but the fight wouldn't allow her to speak.
"It's okay," he said. "You should get the hell out of here before those doors shut. I can take out the spire."
"No. I'm not leaving you. We do this together." Porter saw her main cannon come online. All she had to do was squeeze the trigger.
"Okay. We do this together," he said as he charged his autocannon. "Don't shoot until we're on top of that spire. We'll hose it down with a sweeping pass and then do a full e-burn to the exit. Understood?"
"Simple," Nicole said. "Let's end this thing."
Porter smiled as he zeroed in on the spire and closed the gap. His finger dropped down to the trigger and squeezed for a full ten seconds. The ship compensated for the sudden opposing force of energy by burning his forward thrusters. He watched his fire and Nicole's tear through the organic-metal mixture that formed the spire. The alien tentacle ripped into pieces as the oversized rounds turned the connection into a mess of disconnected material.
"Go, go, go," Porter shouted as the Cyclone reacted to the sudden loss of control within its belly. The Tritons stopped releasing with the severed connection, but there were at least fifty of them loose in the hanger. They all instantly got a reading on the two ships and saw through their stealth modules. The discovery would be immediately communicated to every Triton still active inside and outside of the Cyclone.
"Don't slow down. They can see us now," Porter said. "Just burn outside and break away."
"Roger that," Nicole said as she pulled in front of Porter. His burners weren't working at the same efficiency as hers, slowing him down.
They blew out of the alien ship with more than sixty Tritons hot on their tails. Porter broke away to the left of the exit as Nicole snapped her bird to the right. They split the pack in two but still had thirty fighters each chasing them down as well as a few stray missiles from the Cyclone's PDTs.
"Give them hell," Porter yelled over the comm. He directed his Tritons away from the primary battle, giving himself as much space as possible to gain any control over the situation. His ship's alert systems went into overdrive as the Tritons all fired on him at once. It wouldn't take long for their lasers to tear him to shreds.
He bought his X90S around one last time to take in the look of the MBC Andromeda before the Tritons saw him out of the game. Before he could soak in the ship that he had called home for longer than he could remember, a different sight caught his eye. Three more battle carriers and two destroyers had joined the fight. They had moved in above the Andromeda and were launching fighters. The destroyers took the lead and headed for the Zeal fleet, taking on the overwhelming forces with confidence as their PDTs snuffed out any Tritons within range.
"Well, it's about time," he said as he sat up in his seat. He broke away from a predictable flight path and decided that it wasn't his day to die, at least not yet. He flipped end to end as fast as the X90S would allow and lit up several Tritons in a single pass as he sliced back through the pack. The move caught them off guard and saw the end of at least a dozen of the small fighters. Porter laughed out loud as he snapped his ship around and lit up more of them with his autocannon.
He burned away, draining his fuel some more to bring it down to less than a quarter. He wouldn't be able to keep playing cat and mouse with his pursuers for much longer.
The remaining dozen or so Tritons split apart from their usual pack-like approach and overwhelmed his ship's sensors. Too many firing solutions lit up at once, forcing him to flee again as the Tritons regrouped and zeroed in on his tail. A few laser strikes hit his bird, skimming along its armored skin. He was a dead man if he couldn't shake them.
As the dozen nimble, alien fighters closed in to finish Porter off, a lone Stalker streaked past his bird, head-on and lit up the Tritons with a full passing strike.
"Take that, assholes," Briggs yelled out over the comm. He tore their attack formation in half before he swept around and finished off the stragglers.
"Briggs, you crazy bastard. They had me beat ... Thank you."
"Don't mention it. I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd drop in."
Porter laughed over the comm. "It's good to see you, man."
"Likewise. Now, why don't we find some more of these assholes to kill."
"I'm with you," Porter said.
That was when the Zeal made their move.
Instead of pushing forward with their superior forces, the unknown ship in the middle split away from the pack of Cyclones in the distance. Porter caught sight of the slow-moving vessel as it came toward the forward Cyclone, pointing its three cannons directly at the closest destroyer.
Without warning, the ship fired its three guns at once. Simultaneous beams of energy shot out of the Cyclone and struck the warship instantly. Porter's helmet compensated for the blast of white that followed, preventing him from going blind. When his visor eased up, he gazed around to see nothing but tiny fragments where the destroyer had once stood. Several hundred lives had just been snuffed out in a few seconds.
As Porter tried to take in what had just happened, the deadly Zeal ship maneuvered itself to line up the next destroyer. There was nothing he or Briggs could do but watch.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Pérez was overwhelmed at how good the Special Forces were at killing the Zeal. The ship was lousy with what the soldiers called Stiltz. Pérez could never forget the tall beasts that had slain his entire squad without pausing. He took great pleasure in seeing them killed with such deadly efficiency.
As the group approached the ship's Orb from the top of an open cylindrical expanse, a heavy rumble rocked the Cyclone to its core. Pérez was convinced the ship was about to explode.
"What the hell was that?" Master Sergeant Oliver asked out loud. He got an answer a moment later over the comm when someone confirmed that a Zeal ship had just blown up an MAF destroyer with a single strike. Oliver got his squad to hold and continue to defend themselves against the Stiltz on board. There weren't many left to deal with.
Pérez overheard the conversation Oliver was having with the Andromeda's commodore.
"I want you to pull out of that Cyclone."
"Sir?"
"I repeat, pull out of the Cyclone. We need all Special Forces to hit a new target. Sending you orders now."
"Yes, sir," Oliver said.
"New target?" Pérez asked.
"I'm guessing they're talking about the ship that just pancaked an MAF destroyer, Pérez."
"Right. Well, that should be interesting then."
Oliver scoffed. "Interesting? More like suicidal." The master sergeant stepped away from Pérez and shouted orders for the squad to head back to the transporter. First, they needed the Orb destroyed if they were to have any chance of breaking away from the ship's PDTs, so Oliver pulled out a large D-block kit and set a timer. He rigged the device for thirty seconds and ordered two soldiers to toss the package over the edge and down at the Orb.
The bomb went off before the Zeal could react.
"Orb destroyed, Sergeant," one of the squad members said. Pérez gazed around as the last of the Stiltz on the carrier all fell over and collapsed. A moment later, the ship's artificial gravity failed.
"Everybody, back to the Cubicle. We're Oscar Mi
ke," Oliver yelled.
Pérez followed the squad as they used their magboots to stomp to the exit. He took some pleasure in knowing that the Zeal hadn't killed any of them. The positive thought soon evaporated when he thought of the hundreds of MAF personnel that had just been disintegrated by the Zeal.
Pérez watched all twelve soldiers climb back up the tunnel they had infiltrated, each one scurrying up top without effort. He brought up the rear and took twice as long as the soldier ahead of him. Oliver half dragged him into the Cubicle when he reached the surface.
Pérez spotted the other squads backing out of the Cyclone on his way into the ship.
The ramp sealed shut again before he could float into a locked position within the cargo bay. The pilot took off as soon as possible and headed for the coordinates Oliver had relayed to him.
"What's our next target, Sergeant?" one of the Special Forces asked.
Oliver was already on his e-slate before the question was asked. "Something we have zero intel on, of course. All I can tell you is the ship we are about to hit just took out an MAF destroyer in the blink of an eye."
A hush waved over the squad. They each stared around the cargo bay with open mouths and twisted brows.
"How are we supposed to stop it?" Pérez heard himself ask.
"No idea, Sergeant. I thought that was why you were here? You're supposed to be one of the first soldiers to survive these bastards. Tell me why we've had to carry you if you know less than squat about the enemy."
"I didn't ask to be put here, Master Sergeant. Captain Murphy did that. I was happy defending the Andromeda."
"Of course you were. A rat like you always knows when the ship is sinking." The rest of the squad laughed. Larkin made his voice known above all others.
Pérez went to answer the sergeant's words, but he knew deep down the man was right. Instead, he shook his head and waited for death to come for them all. It would only be a matter of time before this new ship that wiped out a destroyer swatted them like a fly on the wall.
As the transporter flew closer to the new target, the pilots got more chatty and dumbstruck.
"What the hell is that thing?" the co-pilot asked her colleague. The pilot had no answer for her and continued on a direct course toward the ship.
Pérez stared at the sight of the long vessel on the screen above. The ship had three massive cannons poking out of its bow that were yet to fire again and wipe out another destroyer. After a long stare at the vessel, he noticed a lack of PDTs dotting the smooth surface.
"Master Sergeant," the pilot said a few moments later. "This new ship has no PDTs. We should be able to land directly on its hull. ETA one minute."
"Roger that, sir," Oliver replied. "Okay, you heard the man. Get your shit together. We are about to put boots on something new the Zeal have been saving for us. I want access to that boat within two minutes of our skids touching down. Got it?"
The squad all shouted "yes, Sergeant" as one. Pérez didn't include himself in the noise. He half considered staying behind but knew he would be dragged along for the ride, so he readied himself for fast insertion into the field.
The long vessel filled the view on screen and swallowed the tiny transporter whole. The pilot found a reasonably flat surface to land on and touched down. The magnetic clamps hooked onto the ship, confirming that this new destroyer killer had similar properties to the Cyclone.
"Go, go, go," Oliver shouted. Pérez allowed the squad to pass him, not wanting to slow them down, before he joined the charge. His magboots and exoskeleton helped him move from the transport's ramp to the surface of the alien craft. He settled into position beside an uninviting Larkin and waited while several soldiers began scanning the ship for weaknesses.
A second and third Cubicle touched down beside the first and offloaded another two squads of Special Forces. They joined the team on the ground and dug in.
"Master Sergeant," one of the soldiers called. "I'm not finding anything thin enough to cut into."
"Me either," shouted one of the corporals.
"Well, keep looking. There's got to be a way inside this tin can piece of—"
Oliver's words got cut off when his head exploded in his helmet. Where his skull had been sitting within the confines of his armored space suit was a gaping hole. The sergeant's magboots and exoskeleton kept him standing upright.
"We've got contacts," Larkin shouted.
Pérez raised his rifle up to see what looked like a pack of Stiltz coming from an exit point on the surface of the ship. They were unlike any of the big creatures he'd ever seen. They were a few feet taller and covered in more armor than the regulars.
The squad opened up on the aliens, firing a mix of coilguns loaded with high-speed frangible rounds, and rifles packed with high-explosive armor-piercing bullets. The Zeal didn't flinch and gave the squad easy targets to hit as the three giant beasts moved as one toward them. The team's attack seemed to do little damage to this new enemy.
Pérez fired his coilgun at the center target, aiming for its head. His shots splintered into dust on impact as if the material these creatures wore was indestructible.
The aliens responded by raising their arms and firing energy weapons embedded in their mechanical wrists. With every shot, another SF soldier fell. Pérez gazed on as the squads began to die one soldier at a time.
"Screw this," Larkin said as he backed away to run. His skull got turned into mush the second he left the limited cover.
Pérez kept firing as time started to slow down. He watched as each soldier around him fell to the superior enemy. He wanted to escape back to the transport, but something held him in place. He wouldn't abandon his squad again.
His eyes fell shut as he thought about the Marines he'd failed four years ago. Their eyes would forever be burned into his memories.
When the searing round tore through his armor and ripped off his arm at the shoulder, he almost felt a sense of relief to be leaving this life behind.
The energy of the attack forced him to the alien ship's surface while his magboots held on. When the Zeal came up and stood over his still body, Pérez gave them his middle finger of his remaining arm and a smile before the final beam struck him between the eyes. His fight was over.
Chapter Sixty-Four
The second destroyer exploded into a ball of white as the Zeal ship fired its three cannons again. The MAF began to scatter, backing away their carriers in random directions. Only the Andromeda and the Orion remained. Their Stalkers and transports loaded with Special Forces soldiers were in the middle of the confusion.
"Garcia," Porter shouted over the comm. "You have to get those carriers back here."
The comm crackled for a moment before the commodore answered. "They’re not responding to our hails. They’ve made their choice, Porter. I’m sorry. Garcia out."
"You can’t be serious?" Porter muttered as he did what he could to concentrate on not dying. He stared at the ship that would kill them all if nothing was done to stop it. Briggs was backing him up.
The Tritons had all gone dark. He figured the Special Forces had disabled the Cyclone's Orb from within. The lack of enemy fighters allowed every MAF Stalker still in play to take in the sight of the ship killer holding the middle ground. That was when Porter realized that the other Cyclones were staying back from the fight. They were not needed if this new ship could wipe out two MAF destroyers in just over fifteen minutes.
"Porter," Nicole shouted over the comm. "Are you still there?"
"I'm alive."
"I'm here, too," Briggs said.
"Glad to see you both. What the hell is that thing out there? How do we stop it?"
"I don't know," Porter said. "But all I can say is that it takes fifteen minutes to warm up its cannons between shots. We better scramble out to it fast if we have any hope of—"
"Bradley," Teve called over the comm.
"Teve?" Porter let out. "Where are you?"
"Still on the Andromeda. I just woke up."
"Is everything okay? We're under attack. The Zeal have just—"
"I know. I'm guessing you are staring at something resembling a capital ship?"
"Yeah, how did you know?" Porter asked.
"There's not enough time to explain. Besides, I need you to come grab me."
"Come grab you? I'm piloting a Stalker right now in the middle of a fight."
"I understand, but please listen to me. I know how to kill the ship. You need to fly back here and load me up in one of the cargo attachments. You can use your ship's stealth to take me over to it before another MAF ship goes down."
Porter screwed up his brow as he closed his eyes. He let out a moan at the thought of leaving Nicole and Briggs out there on their own. "Okay. I trust you. On my way. Have the deck crew prepare the cargo attachment. Make sure you're wearing a space suit and not battle armor. Something tells me you're going to need it."
"Already thought of that. We'll be ready by the time you arrive. See you soon. Over."
Porter shook his head as he circled a temporary loop in space he assigned to his ship. He wanted to keep moving.
"What was all that about?" Nicole asked.
"It's Teve. He's awake. He thinks he has a way to stop this new ship. I have to retrieve him and fly him over to this destroyer killer."
"That's insane," Briggs said.
"You can't be serious?" Nicole added, her voice deflated.
"I'm coming back. This isn't goodbye."
"I know," she said. "You're right ... Get your brother. I'll see you soon. What should the rest of us do in the meantime?"
Porter tried to think of a solution. "Recall any ships headed toward the capital ship. Wait until I return with Teve. We need to give him as much chance as possible to board. I'll see you both soon."
Nicole and Briggs both gave him their understanding and began issuing orders down the line. Command directly piped up to question their words, so Porter explained the situation as best he could while he flew back to the Andromeda. The brass agreed with the plan, possibly losing some of their confidence when they witnessed the annihilation of two destroyers in front of their eyes.